


In Every Ending a Beginning

by Yrindor



Series: Sports Anime Shipping Olympics 2016 Fills [54]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M, Peasant Nishinoya Yuu, Pre-Relationship, SASO 2016, Slow Build, Tattooed Azumane Asahi, Warrior Monk Azumane Asahi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 02:37:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7600159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yrindor/pseuds/Yrindor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nishinoya is farmer from a family of farmers, but when a warrior monk ventures down from high in the mountains to tell him he is to become the hero who will save the world, he has no choice but to obey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Every Ending a Beginning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [adustyspectacle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adustyspectacle/gifts).



> Written for Sports Anime Shipping Olympics 2016 Bonus Round 5: Myth & Lore. Also fills the "Accidental Hero" square for Trope Bingo round 7.

Noya saw the monk the minute the man stepped out of the forest. And like the rest of his village, Noya immediately turned his back to the path and didn't look back. The monks who lived high in the mountains rarely set foot down in the villages, but when they did, it never boded well—their descent from the mountains was always a portent of great unrest or disaster.

Despite his outward lack of interest, Noya listened carefully to the jingle of the monk's staff as it drew nearer. The sound stopped abruptly just behind him, and he held his breath, willing the monk to continue, but his lungs gave out before the monk moved on.

"Nishinoya Yuu?" the monk asked as Noya coughed. Noya didn't question how the monk knew his name. Everyone knew the monks had unnatural powers. The line between truth and myth was never clear, but depending on who one asked, the monks could see the future, control the elements, fight with unnatural strength, and ride the giant crows that lived high in the mountains.

Noya turned slowly. He had averted his gaze, but as a result, his eyes fell on the monk's tattoos instead. He let out a choked sound as he stumbled backward, tripping over his feet and landing in an ungraceful crouch in the water. He didn't know how to read all of the tattoos, but he had learned the basics from his grandfather: the thick band around the monk's bicep marked him as a warrior, and the bands below it were for other deeds of merit, the crow feather over his heart marked him as a commander, with the additional feathers denoting higher ranks, and the stylized flames on the back of his hands denoted mastery of the elements.

All of those paled in comparison to the tattoo that had sent Noya to his knees — the monk had a crow's foot tattooed on his right temple. Noya remembered the stories his grandfather had told him in a hushed whisper late at night; his grandfather had seen most of the tattoos over the years, but the crow's foot was as much legend as fact. It marked one who was considered exceptional even by the monks, and according to his grandfather, it was said to be used maybe once every couple of generations.

Noya stared pointedly at the muddy water in front of him, avoiding looking up at the warrior monk at all costs. "I am he," he said hesitantly.

"Come. A storm is brewing, and the Heavens have spoken. You alone can turn back the storm."

Noya bit his lip. "I'm not a hero! I'm just a simple farmer," he wanted to yell, but he couldn't. The monks rarely came down from the mountain, but their presence kept the villages nestled in the valleys relatively safe from raiders. In return, it was understood that on the rare occasion the monks did emerge from the forest with a request, their request was to be granted without question.

Noya rose and brushed the mud off of his tunic as best he could before stepping up onto the path beside the monk. The monk set out again, his staff jingling with each step, and Noya hurried behind him. They left in silence, passing the silent backs of the other villagers before entering the forest.

Unlike the paths in the rice fields, the forest floor was covered with rough roots and fallen branches that dug painfully into Noya's bare feet. Afraid of what would happen if he complained or fell behind, Noya bit his lip and forced himself to keep up with the monk's long stride.

He lost track of how long they had been walking when a sharp rock cut into his foot, and he cried out before he could catch himself.

The monk stopped abruptly and looked back. "This won't do," he said. "You should have said something sooner."

"I'm sorry…" Noya said, hesitating as he realized he still didn't know the monk's name.

"Asahi," the monk said, picking Noya up as if he weighed nothing. Asahi set off at a tangent to the path, and only a few minutes later, they came to a stream where he washed and bandaged Noya's feet. When he finished, he insisted on setting Noya on his back before returning to the main path.

"I can walk," Noya protested once more when Asahi showed no signs of putting him down.

"Your time to prove yourself will come," Asahi replied, "but that time is not now. The difference between a hero and a fool often comes down to knowing when to act." It was the most Noya had heard the monk say, but he didn't elaborate further, falling back into silence.

They continued walking even as day turned to night, Asahi showing no signs of tiring even as the moon rose above the treetops. In the quiet dark, the reality of the day finally hit Noya; he had left everything he had ever known without even saying goodbye, and he might never see any of it again. He cried silently into the back of Asahi's shoulder, trusting the thick cloth of the robes to hide his weakness.

"They say everything in the universe is a cycle," Asahi said quietly. "There is no ending without a beginning, and no beginning without an ending. And like a circle, everything that has been can come again. Mourn what has been lost, but don't let it cloud the view of what is yet to come."

"What am I to become?" Noya asked.

"Only time will tell. The seers saw you arriving at the monastery with me, and they saw you changing the fate of the future. What happen in between remains unknown."

"I'm not a hero," Noya said quietly, trying to discard the ill-fitting mantle that seemed to have been thrust upon him. "I'm just a rice farmer, the fifth son of a family of farmers who have worked the same fields for generations."

"In the village I was born in, everyone had pale skin and black hair," Asahi said slowly, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I don't look like them, so I was declared a cursed child and cast out by my family. I was trying to scrape by on the street however I could when the monks found me."

"You? You were…"

Asahi nodded. "In every ending, a new beginning. In every beginning, an ending," he said quietly.

They lapsed back into a silence that no longer felt uncomfortable, and it wasn't long before the events of the day caught up to Noya and he fell asleep on Asahi's back, lulled to sleep by the monk's even stride.

Unperturbed, Asahi continued the long walk back up the mountain to where the monastery sat amidst crumbling ruins that now served as nesting grounds for the giant crows.

**Author's Note:**

> I had originally intended for this to stay as a one-shot; however, there's a chance that I'll end up writing what happens next and how Noya becomes the hero at some point. I'm estimating the full story will be about 25k though, so if it does happen, it will be on-hold until I finish at least one of my current WIP.
> 
> As always, comments and feedback are welcome and appreciated.


End file.
